Even as she thought it, she knew tonight had been about far more than that.
‘What don’t I need, Conall? You weren’t seducing me. I wanted that kiss.’ She wanted a whole lot more than a kiss. ‘What happened? Were you trying to make me feel better and went further thanyouwanted?’
Though it had felt as if he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him. She shook her head, confused and upset.
‘I only want what’s best for you, Greer.’
Her hands found her hips. ‘And you know what’s best for me?’
‘I’m just saying you’ve been through a lot. Physically and emotionally. You need time to recuperate.’
‘You think I don’t know my own mind? That I don’t know what I want?’
She didn’t know which was worse, being kissed out of pity, or being treated with kid gloves.
‘You know what, Conall? I’m suddenly very tired.’
‘Greer, I—’
‘Thank you for the evening. It was an interesting experience.’ She reached to the side, groping for the door, relief coursing through her as she gripped the handle so hard her fingers went numb. ‘And thank you for your concern. I know you mean well.’ She almost choked on the words.
In the gloom she saw him draw himself higher, his broad shoulders settling somehow wider, as if he prepared himself to take up a challenge.
‘It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll see you on Monday.’ Greer swung the door slowly forward and relief filled her as he stepped back, over the threshold.
He said something, murmured it in a low voice that tugged at something deep inside her. Fortunately, she couldn’t make out the words over the pounding of her pulse.
She shut the door, double-locked it and stumbled into the apartment. She didn’t turn on the light to search for her discarded shoes, because she didn’t want to risk catching sight of herself in the mirror.
Greer found the sofa and sank onto it, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs.
What had she just done?
And how could they come back from this disaster?
Chapter Five
‘THE FIGURES JUSTdon’t stack up. Nothing you sent me changes that.’
Conall stared through the open French doors, only half seeing the dark blue of the harbour at the end of the lush private garden. Emerson, now head of the Perth office, was usually on the ball. His investment recommendations were generally sound, if not downright insightful.
‘Did you look at the projections in the attachments?’
‘Of course.’ Conall was always meticulous in his attention to detail. ‘I read the whole report.’
‘So you weren’t impressed with the new income stream starting next year? Or the expansion scheduled for December?’
Conall frowned. He didn’t recall that. ‘Where are those details?’
‘The final attachment. I thought I’d save the best news to last.’ His deputy gave a huff of laughter but didn’t sound amused.
Damn it! Conall wasn’t amused either. He scrolled through the document on the screen and realised he’d missed the last attachment. He swore.
This time Emerson’s laugh was genuine. ‘Found it now?’
Conall was already speed reading, torn between admiration that Emerson had identified this opportunity before any other investor snapped it up and annoyance at himself.
‘Sorry, mate. I couldn’t understand why you were so taken with the idea of investing in that company. I should have known better.’
